Madhouse
by JMD-009
Summary: For years Xander Harris hunted monsters. Now he finds himself locked up with some of the most dangerous human monsters the world has produced. Whatever else he may have to do, his hardest task may just be to survive.


Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Batman are property of their respective  
owners. The only thing I can lay claim to is the insanity that is my mind.

**----------**

Notes: I wanted to work on my other wip's before starting yet another one, but my  
muse held the other plot bunnies hostage until I agreed to start this. It's  
inspired by the video game Batman: Arkham Asylum, but will have other Batman  
elements as well.

**----------**

He tested the shackles more out of habit than anything else. The set chaining his ankles could be a problem, but Xander figured he could get out of the wrist restraints easily enough given half a chance. There had been plenty of chances to practice back in Sunnydale. When a demon was trying to eat, sacrifice, and/or mate with you, what was a broken thumb really?

Yes, Xander knew he could likely get out of his cuffs. If he had be planning on escaping that is.

Instead he played at staring blankly ahead at the front of the transport like a good little prisoner. If the guards noticed his subtle probing they didn't show it. He seriously doubted they noticed though. They hadn't been paying attention to him, or most of the other prisoners for that matter. There was only one they focused all their attention on. The uneasiness in their posture spoke volumes on what they thought of the man.

Speaking of, Xander felt the eyes of his neighbour on him again. With his head locked to the front Xander couldn't see the cold, calculating gaze for himself, but he knew it was there. The man was seated to his left and Xander assumed he was supposed to feel unsettled having such a man in his blindside.

It was the first time Xander had met one of the supposed 'super criminals' that had been popping up all over the place in recent years. This single lanky, dark-haired man had the guards' resting a digit by their weapons' safeties and the other prisoners giving him as wide a berth as their restraints allowed.

After everything he had seen and done in his life Xander was hardly impressed. He didn't see what the big deal was. He just turned his head and stared right back. "What?"

There was an assessing intelligence behind those cold eyes, and madness tempered by it. A dangerous combination, but Xander had stared down worse without being cowed.

"Tell me," the other prisoner started, a grin devoid of all humour twisting his lips. "What do you fear?"

"Bunnies," Xander deadpanned and took some satisfaction at the confusion that flashed in the man's eyes at the unexpected answer. "Nothing that cute is every up to something good. Besides, my ex knew the Easter Bunny. Now that is one sick bastard."

Suddenly Xander moved. His head snapped forwards, shattering the other man's nose and throwing his head back to rebound off the reinforced window. The so-called 'super criminal' slumped forward unconscious and Xander turned his attention back to the front like nothing happened.

The guards, Xander noticed, had apparently found other things to capture their attention, pretending they didn't notice their most prominent prisoner was slouched limply in his seat.

Only one guard looked his way with a wickedly amused smirk twisting up the cheek opposite his scar. It was this man's eyes that made Xander wince and, for a moment, he flashed back to eight years old, large hands and a stinging belt.

Control. This was a man who liked to feel like he was in control. No matter who he had to beat down to get it. He'd have to watch himself around this one.

It wasn't long after that until they arrived at their destination and one by one the guards unlocked the clips connecting their chains to the transport. The smirking guard bypassed his seat as they made their rounds. It wasn't until all the other prisoners were out that he came back to Xander's row.

With a quick, practiced motion the clasps were off and Xander was roughly hauled to his feet by his upper arm. The guard's grip was tight enough to bruise as held him there, but Xander was neither intimidated nor impressed. "We're not going to have a problem here, are we Patches?"

"No, Boss," Xander said. "No problems."

"Good," the guard, Boles he read off the uniform, said. From the glint in Boles' eyes Xander could tell there would indeed be problems, but not on his end of things. With a shove just shy of an actual blow Xander was passed off to another guard and lead away. As he was lead out of the transport Xander heard Boles call to the other guards, "Somebody drag Cranes sorry ass off this heap."

The sun was almost painfully bright on his eyes as Xander stepped on solid ground and looked around. They were on an island, surrounded on all sides by sheer cliffs and connected to the mainline by a single bridge. From what he had learnt of the place it was made up of several different buildings for different purposes.

The building in front of him now looked like it belong in a gothic horror film rather that a place to promote mental health. The old structure looked somewhat dirty and rundown on the outside, even if Xander knew it was anything but. Barbed wire and vicious looking spikes surrounded the roof and the small balcony full of armed guards above the front entrance. Scattered around the rooftop stone gargoyles stood watch, their surface so intricately carved Xander almost thought they could come to life at any moment.

A pair of skeletal guard towers stood tall a little ways from either side of the entrance. Snipers stared down unwaveringly at the prisoners being lined up outside the transport. Looking behind him Xander saw the ruins of a collapsed building just inside the gate; leftover from before the island was converted and never cleared. Another pair of guard towers flanked a gate so fierce looking Xander couldn't even fathom trying to climb it.

Even the trees looked creepy around here. Xander could only imagine what it looked like at night. He'd been in crypts that looked more inviting.

A hard shove on his shoulder snapped Xander back to the here and now and he obediently took his place in the line-up. Boles shouldered his way through, the laser sight from the rifles keeping any of the unfortunate prisoners from trying anything.

"Take a good look, gentlemen," Boles shouted and spread his arms wide. "For most of you this will be your home for the rest of your natural lives. You fucked up and society doesn't want you anymore," he gave them a look of pure contempt before adding, "Neither do I, so go ahead, give me an excuse."

Boles gave them all a looked that almost dared them to try something despite the firepower. Xander notice it lingered on him longer than the rest before he continued. "You're all violent psychopaths or you wouldn't be here. You think you're tough bastards. You're wrong. Those of you who learn that might just last the week. Those of you who don't," the smirk that appeared on his face looked like it would be right at home on some of the demons Xander had come across. "Well, maybe we'll find your body before somebody has violated it _too_ much."

Boles paused to let that thought sink in and his gaze settled on Xander again. "Welcome to Hell freaks. Welcome to Arkham Asylum."


End file.
